Counterstrike
by Shorina
Summary: With DCI Barnaby tied up in a murder investigation, Jones is on his own to investigate a series of muggings. Is the latest attack related to his case? - Story complete!
1. dawn

_The characters of DCI Barnaby, DS Jones and DC Stevens are not mine. I merely borrow them so Jones can solve another crime. All other appearing characters are my creation and completely fictional. Similarities to any existent persons are not intended._

_This story was written to 10 prompts I was given at the livejournal community 10_random for the fandom Midsomer Murders for the character of Ben Jones. I'm using the prompts as titles for the chapters._

* * *

"Thanks, Gail," I say tiredly when she sets a glass of beer down in front of me.

"You look tired," she states. "Hard day?"

"Ya." I pick up my beer and take a sip. "At least a quick closure on this morning's call out and an older case."

"Two crimes solved in one day? I knew you were good, Sarge." She winks at me and I grin.

"Only because they turned out to be connected, though." Gail looks at me expectantly. "What?" I ask.

"Do tell, Ben. Don't make me wait for the reports. Which I probably won't be able to get my hands on anyway."

I sigh and take another sip of my beer. "Only if you throw in some food to go along with the beer."

She cocks her head at me. "Will take-out do? In which case you're invited round to my place."

I raise an eyebrow at that, but the prospect of food is too tempting. I haven't had anything proper all day. "It will, as long as it's not Chinese."

"Italian OK?"

I nod. "Fine."

Forty minutes later I find myself in Gail's living room, realizing I've never been here before. Gail went straight through to the kitchen with our pizzas. I'm looking through her CDs when she re-emerges with two plates. "Anything you like?" She asks.

I pull out a CD and hold it up. "May I?" I point at her stereo.

"Sure."

I put on the music, keeping the volume down so we can talk.

"So, tell me about your cases."

"You really want to talk about work?"

"No, I want to _hear about your_ _work_."

"Your own fault, don't complain if I bore you. It's really not that interesting."

"Let me be the judge of that."

"All right..." So, over pizza I start to recount my day.

It started with an early call around dawn, light was just beginning to filter into my bedroom and I had still been asleep when my mobile rang. I fear I groaned instead of a greeting when I answered the call. It was the desk, calling me out to a mugging up in Midsomer Deverell. The colleagues at the scene thought it might be connected to the 'Morning-Mugger' case I had been working on lately so they wanted me there.

Of course, by the time I made it to the address they had given me, there was nothing to be seen, just two uniformed colleagues waiting for me. They gave me a quick recount of what they knew:

The victim, Shaun Gills, had been attacked violently, knocked out actually, and mugged. A camera and some money missing. No witnesses of course. It was the paper-boy who found Gills lying in a hump on the ground when he was on his way home from his delivery round. He had called an ambulance and the police but couldn't say anything else, so the colleagues took his details and sent him home.

Mr. Gills had been taken to the hospital in Causton for a medical check-up. So that was my next destination. Before I left, I sent the colleagues on a door to door to see if anyone had heard or seen anything suspicious.

***

"They really could have told you to go straight to the hospital. Making you drive all the way out to Midsomer Deverell for nothing..."

"Mhm, would have saved me the drive. There really was nothing to see, not even any blood on the ground, just nothing."

Gail shakes her head slightly. "Anything to drink, Ben?"

I nod enthusiastically.


	2. injury

Gail returns from the kitchen with two bottles of beer, holding them up for me to see. "Beer OK?"

I ponder the question for a bit, I already had beer at the pub and I need to get home somehow but I can take a cab and pick up the car in the morning, so I nod. "Sounds great."

Gail puts one of the bottles down in front of me with a smile. "Go on then. Was Mr. Gills still at the hospital when you got there?"

I take a swig of the beer and continue my account of the day:

***

By the time I arrived at the hospital, Mr. Gills had been checked through and was ready to be released. No serious injuries, a mild concussion that would give him a bit of a headache, but apart from a few minor bruises sustained when he collapsed, that was all. They told me he had been struck over the back of the head with something long and round, something that was covered with varnish as some tiny bits of it stuck to his head wound.

I found Mr. Gills at the reception desk where he was signing the release-papers and introduced myself to him. We sat down in the waiting area for a moment to talk.

"What were you doing out so early, Mr. Gills?"

"I wanted to get a nice shot of the sunset. The weather would have been just perfect for it..." He winced slightly and touched the back of his head. "But I never got round to it."

"Did you hear or see anyone? Anything that could help us identify your attacker, Sir?"

He shook his head but regretted the motion immediately. "Ugh. No, sorry Sergeant. I had just stopped for a moment to watch a flock of birds that had risen from a tree and next thing I know there's someone standing over me, asking if I was all right."

"So your attacker never spoke a word to you."

"No, I said that, didn't I?"

"Sorry, Sir. I just need to learn about the events in as much detail as possible."

He nodded. "Of course."

"And the attacker took nothing but your camera, Sir? No money or credit cards?"

"I didn't bring anything but my camera and my keys in the first place. Dawn is still free of charge."

I jotted down a few words in my notepad, it always helps me to gather my thoughts. "I will need the exact type of your camera, Sir, so we can return it to you when we find it."

"I have the serial number at home if that would help you."

"That would be more than I had hoped for." I handed him my card. "You can reach me at this number. Please call me about the serial number when you get home or about anything else you can remember, Sir. Is someone picking you up or shall I organize a lift for you?"

"I'm fine, thank you." He studied my card before slipping it into a pocket of his jacket. "I called my girlfriend from here a while ago. She should be here any minute to collect me."

I got up. "Very well, Sir. I hope your head will be better soon."

He got up, too. "Shouldn't be too bad." He pulled a packet of pills out of another pocket. "They gave me these for the headache. Different name but they tell me they're just like aspirins. So I suppose I'll live." He tucked them away again. "I'll call you about the serial number as soon as I get home."

"Thank you, Sir."

I walked out of the hospital, pondering whether I had time to stop somewhere for a proper breakfast before heading to the station.

***

"Now that doesn't happen too often," Gail says.

I look at her quizzically. "What doesn't?"

"That people actually write down the serial numbers of their gadgets. Identifying stolen property would be so much easier if they did."

"Oh, that. Ya. I was surprised myself that he had it at hand. It is unusual. But I suppose when the item is important to you, you care enough to bother with things like that."

She grins at me. "Do you have the serial number of your camera, Ben?"

I grin right back. "I don't have a camera. I have a mobile with a camera built in."


	3. talented

"Well, back to your story. I think you didn't stop for breakfast. What you brought into the CID-room this morning looked like canteen stuff to me."

"Observant, are you?" I raise an eyebrow at Gail.

"I'm a detective. I'd better be."

That makes me laugh. "Right. So, Miss observant detective, do I need to recount what went on while I was at the station, too? Or do you know all of it already?"

"Actually I do have cases to work on myself, I cannot spend all day observing you. So, go on. I might know bits and pieces, but not the whole picture."

"All right then..."

***

I walked into the CID room with a bun and a cup of coffee. Chief Inspector Barnaby had already heard about about my call-out. Probably he had inquired why I wasn't in yet.

"Morning, Jones," he greeted me. "So, has the Morning-Mugger struck again?"

"Good morning, Sir. Actually I don't think so. This doesn't seem to be connected, though it was early morning."

"Unconnected, is it? Well, I'm sure a talented young Sergeant like you will be able to deal with it then."

With Tom Barnaby I am never sure if he actually means something like this as a compliment or is just winding me up. "Yes, Sir." Always a safe answer.

"Good. I'll be talking to Mrs. Jennings again. Something is wrong about what she told me the other day and I intend to find out what it is. If you need help, I'm sure Stevens will be glad to assist."

***

Gail laughs. "Yes, I heard that part. He's still working on that murder inquiry, no progress today in case you hadn't spoken to him again later on."

"No, I hadn't. No progress at all? So I achieved more than him today!" I have to smile at the thought.

"Anyway, sorry for interrupting, go on."

***

The chief wasn't out the door for too long when my phone rang. It was Mr. Gills.

"Oh, Mr. Gills. Thank you for calling so soon."

"Well, it's in my own interest, isn't it? I want my camera back. I have here the serial number..."

"Just a moment, Sir." I got out my notepad and pen. "All right, go on, please."

He gave me the serial number and exact type of his stolen camera.

"Is there anything else you can remember about the incident, Sir? Anything at all?"

"Incident. Is that what you call it? I call it a mugging. And no, Sergeant, I already told you, I can't remember anything."

"Well, if anything comes to mind..."

"I will call you, yes, yes. Listen, I'd like to lie down for a bit now, at least until these pills finally do their job."

"Of course. Thanks again for calling. I'll be in touch as soon as I have news for you."

So he still didn't remember anything else. I had hoped he would at least have remembered hearing steps, it's usually quiet that early in the morning and he was attacked on a paved path. But no, nothing. It made me wonder if his injury wasn't more serious than they had told me at the hospital.

But all I could do for now was to feed the details of the camera into the computer. I didn't really hope to find it any time soon, if at all.

The colleagues I had sent on the door to door had reported back by then. Not many people lived close by and of those not one had heard or seen anything - too early, they had all been in bed.

There is no CCTV footage of the area either as it is just on the verge of town. So I was stuck with a victim short a camera. A victim who had heard and seen nothing of his attacker. What should I make of that? It didn't look very promising. Talented Sergeant or not. Good luck trying to solve crime without any evidence or clues.

***

"Ah, but you said you did close the case," Gail interrupts me.

I scowl at her. "Do you have to destroy the bit of drama I try to jot in straight away?"

She giggles. "Sorry, Ben."


	4. lost & found

I've been silent for a bit, sipping my beer and gathering my thoughts when Gail nudges me. "Go on then, Ben."

"Are you sure you want to hear more? It's not that interesting – with or without me trying to make it sound dramatic."

"Yes, I am sure." She looks at me expectantly so I take a last mouthful of my beer and continue.

***

As I said, there wasn't much more I could do for Mr. Gills at the moment so I picked up the file on my so-called Morning-Mugger again in the hope of finding anything that had eluded me before. I didn't get far as my phone rang again. I hoped Mr. Gills finally remembered something - anything. But it wasn't him. It's was a man called Michaels, phoning from the lost property office in Midsomer Deverell.

"Sergeant, I think I have good news for you. I just saw the new listing for a missing camera pop up in the system and guess what – I have it here! It was brought in about an hour ago."

I couldn't believe my ears! "You're sure it's this camera?"

"Positive, correct type, correct serial number."

"I'll be right over."

Now that was the last thing I had expected, someone finding the camera and dropping it off at the lost property office. Had it not been stolen after all but had Mr. Gills lost it?

I drove back to Midsomer Deverell. The lost property office turned out to be run by the staff of the local farming museum, apparently the place where property is lost most often as it's where the visitors go. Anyway, it was indeed Mr. Gill's stolen camera.

I turned the camera over, it didn't seem to be damaged. "Who brought it in?"

Mr. Michaels didn't need to look it up. "Good old Liddy. Sorry Linda Bartels, she's what – over eighty but still quite lusty. Takes her little yorkie for a walk regularly every day. She's a good soul, brings in stuff at least once a week. Often enough it's just some broken thing someone's dropped, but sometimes – like today – it's items that people will actually be looking for."

"Sounds like she's the good soul of the community."

Michaels laughed. "Well, maybe. Most of all she's lonely and just looks for an excuse to come in and chat. Her kids moved away years ago and her friends have died off one by one. Only her little yorkie to keep her company nowadays."

I asked Michaels to give me her address and went to see Mrs. Bartles. She doesn't live very far from the museum.

When I rang her doorbell, there was frenetic barking on the other side, the little yorkie going crazy. I heard some shuffling and her chiding the dog before the door opened. She's a little old lady, walking a bit stooped but other than that Michaels was right – she is lusty.

"Mrs. Bartles? Detective Sergeant Jones, Causton CID."

"Oh, police? Has something interesting happened around here finally?"

It wasn't quite the greeting I had expected. The yorkie had wriggled past her and was eagerly sniffing my trouser legs now. At least he had stopped barking like mad.

"You found this camera this morning, Mrs. Bartles?" I held it out to her.

"Oh yes, yes, we did, didn't we Jasper? But please, call me Liddy. And do come it. Would you like a cup of tea, Sergeant?"

Jasper had pricked his ears upon hearing his name and was wagging his little tail eagerly. "Thank you, tea sounds lovely."

She led me into her living room, a very florid place with lots of photos of what I presumed to be her kids and grandchildren all around. "Take a seat, Sergeant. I had just put the kettle on so tea won't be a minute."

I sat down on a tasselled sofa which turned out to be a mistake. Jasper was up on the sofa next to me trying to sniff... let's say higher regions than before. I tried to shove him away gently but he kept coming back each time.

Mrs Bartles reappeared in the door. "Oh Jasper, you bad boy. Come here!" Thankfully he did.

"I'm so sorry, Sergeant. He's such a naughty boy, aren't you, Jasper?" She ruffled his head affectionately. If that was her being stern with the dog it's no wonder it's got bad manners.

She handed me a cup of tea from the tray she had brought with her. "So, what can I help you with?" She sat down in an armchair with a slight sigh.

"Where exactly did you find the camera?"

"Oh, I'm not sure we exactly found it. We brought it in, but you see, it was hanging on a fence pole outside the Carmichael's place, as if someone had picked it up and hung there."

"The Charmichaels? Where do they live?"

"Oh, what's the number, Jasper? Meadow Lane... 13 is it? I'm afraid I'm not certain of the house-number. It's the red-brick house with the white fence. You can't really miss it."

"And when exactly did you find it, Mrs. Bartles?"

"We were on our way back, so it must have been... around 8:40? Yes, that sounds about right."

"Did you meet anyone around Meadow Lane?"

"No, we didn't, eh Jasper? We never seem to meet anyone. It's sad, really."

I finished my tea. "Well, thank you Mrs. Bartles. The owner of the camera will be happy to get it back so soon."

She walked me to the door. "Oh, Sergeant – why is the police asking round for a lost camera? There is more to it, isn't there?"

"Maybe, maybe not. That's what I'm trying to find out."

She sighed. "I take it that's the kind way of telling me you can't talk about it. Oh, well. Good luck, Sergeant."

I went back to the car, glad to escape Jasper. I looked up Meadow Lane on my mobile, it isn't even close to where Mr. Gills had been attacked. Anyway, it was time to return the camera to it's rightful owner. I didn't have any hope of finding useful fingerprints on it after all this handling, so I could just as well make Mr. Gills happy and return it.

***

Gail finally bursts out laughing.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're laughing pretty hard for nothing."

"Well, I've tried to imagine the scene on the sofa.. Jasper the bad boy."

Now I have to laugh, too, rather because Gail's laugh is infectious than because of the memory of the yorkie trying to shove his nose where I didn't appreciate it.


	5. a phone call

When Gail has sufficiently recovered from her laughing fit, she glances at my empty beer bottle. "Another one, Ben?"

"Ah, no. But if you have anything without alcohol..."

"Coke? Juice?"

"Coke sounds great."

"Diet Coke though."

"Even better."

She picks up the empties on her way to the kitchen and soon re-emerges with two glasses and a bottle of Coke. While she pours the drinks she asks "So, was Mr. Gills happy to get his camera back?"

I take the glass she offers me. "Thanks. And well, yes and no."

"No?" She frowns. "Sounds like there is more to it. Go on then."

***

I called Mr. Gills to make sure he was good enough to see me, remembering he had wanted to lie down a bit. But he picked up the phone after the second ring.

"Gills' Plumbing."

"D.S. Jones. I have good news for you, Mr. Gills. We found your camera."

"My camera?! That was quick. Shall I come and pick it up?"

"No need to, Mr. Gills. I am in Midsomer Deverell so I can drop it off with you."

"Wonderful! Good news like that are better medicine than the pills they gave me. Come over, I'm staying home today anyway."

So I drove straight over to him.

***

"Does he live anywhere close to Meadow Lane?"

"No, and stop interrupting. You wanted me to recount the story, now leave me to it."

She makes a sign that her lips are sealed so with a chuckle I continue.

***

Mr. Gills must have been looking out of the window, holding out for me for he opened the door before I had reached it. "Sergeant Jones! You're changing my view of the police for the better. That's what I call a quick result."

"You shouldn't be thanking me for this. Your camera was found and dropped off at the lost property office."

He frowned. "Found? But it was stolen! Anyway, come on in."

He lead me through to his office. In contrast to Liddy Bartles' living-room it seemed nearly spartan.

"Who found it then? Any chance it was my attacker?" He looked at the camera closely, turning it on.

"Mrs. Linda Bartles. But I doubt she's your attacker, Sir. I don't think she'd have the strength to knock you out."

He looked up at me. "Liddy? Oh, I know her. Fixed her rainwater pipe last autumn. No, she sure didn't attack me." He looked back at his camera, holding it up and frowned again. "The memory-card is missing."

"What memory-card? You never mentioned a memory-card, Mr. Gills."

He looked at me, a confused expression on his face. "I didn't? Well, it's pretty obvious that if you have a digital camera you also have a memory-card for it, isn't it?"

"Not necessarily. Some have a built-in memory..."

"Yes, yes. Still, I had a 4GB card in here and it's gone now." He showed me the display where it said 'Please insert memory-card.' He also checked the slot where it belongs to make sure the camera didn't just fail to recognize it. "Why would Liddy take the memory-card? She probably doesn't even know what it is, a memory-card... maybe that bloke Michaels at the lost property office? Maybe he was bored and wanted to see if there was anything interesting on it."

"I doubt it, Mr. Gills. But I will check back with him of course."

"You do that, I don't really trust him, never did."

"Any special reason for the mistrust, Sir?

"Uhm, it's personal, Sergeant. Personal differences in the past."

Before I had a chance to ask for any details, his phone rang. "Sorry, just a moment, Sergeant, could be a client. And I never have enough of those."

He picked up the receiver. "Gills' Plumbing." Then he listened for a bit, turning rather pale. He hung up and rushed to his open laptop which stood on his desk and clicked at something frantically.

I walked up to him. "Bad news Mr. Gills?"

He ignored me. He was checking his emails, opening one. A picture of a very scarcely clad woman came up on the screen and he dropped into his chair, staring at the picture. He had seemed an energetic man before but now he looked like a picture of misery.

***

"You're making this sound like a bad sex-story. First Jasper, the bad boy, now scarcely clad women... what's next?" She winks at me.

"Hey, I'm only recounting what happened. Don't blame me for bad mannered dogs or the photos other people take."


	6. photograph

"So, who was the woman in the picture? Do I remember a girlfriend?"

I grin at Gail. "Did I mention you're observant?"

"Yes, you did."

"Well, I was right with that."

She laughs and I continue my tale.

***

"Mr. Gills?"

"Oh my God..."

As Mr. Gills seemed too shocked to speak, I turned to the screen to read the short text that accompanied the photograph.

'Oh, isn't she pretty, the little slut? If you don't want this and the other photos of her to show up on the internet with her name alongside them, you'd better stop messing with me. You know what I want.'

I checked the sender but there was no name given and the address was at a domain that offers free addresses. Not much help. In my mind I was already going through the motions of having the email traced back, if it was possible at all.

"Bianca...," Gills whispered.

I turned to him again. "Mr. Gills – what's this about? Who's this woman?

Finally he looked up at me. "Bianca, my girlfriend. I took some photos of her last weekend. We had gone down to the sea, fooled around a bit. Oh God. I can't let those pictures end up on the web. Dammit, I should have transferred them off the card straight away when we returned from our trip."

"They had been on the memory-card in your camera?"

"Yes."

"Do you know who's sent this email? It says you know what he wants..."

Gills looked away, not meeting my eyes. "No, I don't know what he wants."

I let it pass for the moment, unsure if he was hiding something or was simply ashamed of me seeing the picture of his girlfriend. "Mr. Gills, who sent this email? It must be the person that attacked you. You must know him if he knows this is your girlfriend."

"I don't know, Sergeant."

"But he called you and told you to check your emails?" It was pretty obvious from the way he had turned pale and then rushed to the computer.

"Yes."

"Then his number must be on your phone."

"It was number withheld."

"What did he say? Did you recognize the voice?"

"He said he had something I'd be interested in and that I should check my emails."

"Did you recognize the voice," I asked again, wondering if he was deliberately avoiding answering my questions.

"I told you – I don't know how it is."

"Look, I can help you, but you need to give me something to go by, Mr. Gills."

He looked up at me nearly pleadingly. "I don't know who it is or what he wants, Sergeant."

"I think you do. Please think, Mr. Gills. Who would try to blackmail you? Who holds such a grudge against you?"

"I told you, I don't know. And it's no secret that Bianca is my girlfriend, we've been together for over a year. A lot of people know. We often go out together. I'm the local plumber and she works at the grocery so people know us both. It could be anyone." He sighed and slumped deeper into his chair.

The phone rang again. This time Gills hesitated before taking the call. "Gills' Plumbing." His voice sounded weak. He hesitated a moment, looking away. I hit the button for open listening, sensing that it was the blackmailer again. Gills looked up at me but didn't complain about my interference.

'I see you read my email,' a male voice said.

"What do you want?"

'You know damn well what I want. The coins of course!' The voice sounded angry and annoyed.

"You can't do this to Bianca... please."

'You'll get another email with instructions shortly.' The man hung up.

***

"Wow, it's blackmail now? I thought it was only a mugging."

"Ya, so had I. I suppose it's not that boring a story after all."

"No, not at all. It's one of the things I like about the job, there are some real good stories happening right under our noses. And we don't have to wait for the morning newspaper to learn about them."

"Interesting way to look at it..."


	7. coins

I can't help yawning. "Maybe I'd better go..."

"No, you'd better not leave me hanging like this. I want to hear the end of the story."

"I could continue tomorrow..."

"Ben, please...?"

"Oh, all right."

***

"Which coins, Mr. Gills?"

"Well, coins. Those you collect." He looked at me. "Or maybe you don't."

"You're a coin collector?"

"Well, not a great one, but I do have some."

"Are they worth a lot?"

"Some of them..."

I thought for a moment and Mr. Gills just stared at the computer screen which still showed the photo of his girlfriend.

"I think we should set up an exchange. A faked one of course. I'll be there with a colleague and we'll get the blackmailer the moment the exchange has gone through."

Gills hesitated. "Is that safe? I mean, on TV the bad guys always get away... or just want you to deposit something somewhere and only show up later..."

"I thought I had improved your view of the police, Mr. Gills? It'll be all right. We won't be fooled. This is the quickest way to catch whoever it is. If we have to try to track him down via phone-calls or emails it's going to take a lot longer and I wouldn't rely on his patience before he publishes the pictures."

Gills sighed heavily again. "It's the only real option, right?"

"It's the best option, Sir."

He looked up at me defeated. "All right then, I guess. So what do we do now?"

"We wait for the instructions. And I'll get support in."

***

"You didn't call me though. I should be offended by that."

"I wanted to but there was no time. It would have taken you too long to get out to Midsomer Deverell, Gail."

"Hm. Too bad. You know I always like to help you."

I smile at her. "Shall I continue?"

She nods.

***

The email arrived quickly. The blackmailer did not seem to have any patience at all.

'Meeting in half an hour on the forest track behind the church yard. Bring the coins!'

I called the local village P.C. , Davies, in for backup, there was no time to get anyone over from Causton. He was with us within 10 minutes and we set up our plan.

I was going to keep an eye on the church-ward end of the track, he was going to come in from the other way, knowing his way around the woods. Mr. Gills was to keep a line to me open on his mobile, thankfully he had a hands-free set for it that allowed him to keep the phone hidden. That way I'd be able to listen in on what was going on and would know when to move in.

P.C. Davies went ahead to get into the woods unnoticed, then Mr. Gills got into position and I followed last, parking in the church yard. I pretended to look at the announcements outside the church but kept a close eye out for traffic. Soon a man cycled by and indeed turned onto the forest track.

"Someone's coming, Mr. Gills," I warned him over the phone and went over to the track myself, holding back far enough so I wouldn't be spotted. Davies had promised to stay hidden close enough to Mr. Gills to observe what was going on and to be able to move in.

I only heard the following conversation over the phone line.

'Ah, I see you brought them.'

'As you wanted. Where's the memory-card?'

'First things first, give me the coins.'

'How do I know you haven't copied the photos?'

A laugh. 'You don't.'

'You bastard!'

'Now, the coins please or shall I publish the photos?'

'Here, take them, just leave Bianca out of this.'

I was close enough now to see the exchange happen. The man flipped open the folder Gills had given him and nodded, clearly satisfied. He turned to leave.

"Hey, what about the photos?"

He only got another laugh for a reply. The man started to walk away and I stepped onto the track in front of him, my ID ready. Davies had seen my move and came running from the other side, calling out "It's Julian Peters!"

"Mr. Peters, you're under arrest."

At first it seemed like he wanted to just hit the pedals and race away but then he slumped and let himself be led to my car. I brought him in to the station here in Causton with Mr. Gills following behind as he would need to give a proper statement.

***

"So, case closed?"

"Not quite. Things never are as straightforward here in Midsomer as they might seem."

"That's true..."


	8. money

"There's still the question why Julian Peters attacked Shaun Gills in the morning," I tell Gail.

"Oh, right. Why did he do that? He couldn't know Mr. Gills had any pictures suitable for blackmail with him. How could he know he would be there at all? Chance?"

"Do you believe in that? Chance?"

"Most times – no. I take it it wasn't chance in this case either?"

"No, it wasn't. But let me tell things in sequence."

***

We had arrested Mr. Peters and it was time to question him. Some pieces of this story didn't fit or were still missing. As Davies had been in on the arrest I had him sit in on the interview with me, too. Thankfully Peters hadn't asked for a lawyer yet.

"Mr. Peters, why did you blackmail Mr. Gills for the coins? Why are they so important to you?"

"They're mine! The crook nicked them from me."

"Yours? Mr. Gills says they belong to him."

"Ha, hell they do. I can prove it. They were stolen from me and I reported that to the insurance. Call them, they can tell you."

"If they were stolen from you, how comes you knew they were with Mr. Gills?"

"'Cause he wanted money for them from me! The bastard. I just wanted back what is mine."

"I take it if you reported the theft to your insurance, you also reported it to us?"

"Sure. Go and look it up, I'm sure you'll have it filed away nicely somewhere. Not like you lot did much about it."

***

"Ah, that's why you asked me to find that file for you. I didn't check what it was about, otherwise I would have made the connection earlier."

"Yes, Mr. Peters had reported the theft and unfortunately he was right about not much being done about it. Someone had taken his statement, description and value of the coins missing and had put the file aside it seems."

"I'm glad that wasn't me."

"None of us in CID ever saw that file, Gail. Uniforms dealt with it – or rather didn't. Anyway...

***

I put Mr. Gills into another interview room and left a P.C. outside the door. I'd have to speak to him later on. But first I had more questions for Mr. Peters.

"All right, Mr. Peters. We indeed have your report of the theft of the coins. So you're telling me Mr. Gills stole them from you and wanted to sell them back to you?"

"Yup." He crossed his arms and leaned back.

"And why didn't you report _that_ to us?"

"What – so you lot would again do nothing? No, I thought it better to deal with him myself."

"Is that why you attacked Mr. Gills this morning? Did you plan to rob him or was that a spontaneous decision?"

"Attacked... we had set up a meeting for this morning so I would get my coins back. Of course he didn't bring them, the bugger."

"So instead you took his camera?"

"Yeah, I thought maybe that would do better for an exchange. But then I found the pictures on the memory-card and they were far better suited than the camera." He grinned wickedly.

"So you left the camera somewhere in town where it would be found."

"Best not to have it around I thought."

"Where did you leave it?"

"Hung it on a fence somewhere."

"Where?"

He threw up his hands. "I don't know. Somewhere in a quiet residential street. I didn't pay that close attention, I just wanted it out of my hands."

"What did you hit Mr. Gills with?"

"What?"

"Mr. Gills has a head-wound that originates from being struck over the head. What did you hit him with?"

"Oh, that. See, I didn't intend to hit him. We were struggling when I tried to grab the camera and I had my umbrella with me..."

"Where is your umbrella now, Mr. Peters?"

"Why, at home. It cleared up, no need to take it along."

"We'll have someone pick it up from your place then. It's evidence."

Davies offered to go round Peters' place later on and pick it up.

***

"Well, he's the local boy. Seems right that he does it."

"Though it also meant he had to come back to Causton afterwards to drop it off."

"Otherwise someone from here would have to drive. And as he offered..."

"Right, and I took him up on it. Any chance on another glass of Coke? All this talking is making me thirsty."

"Of course."


	9. date

"Before you continue, I have to use the bathroom, Ben. I won't be long."

"No problem. Mind if I put some other music on?"

"Not at all, go ahead, pick something you like."

The chance to stand and stretch a bit is very welcome. I'm not only tired, I'm also stiff. Gail has a wide range of music in her collection so I easily find something I like and put it on. When she returns from the bathroom, I'm back on the sofa, leaning back, listening to the quiet music I chose. She cocks her head and listens for a moment, then smiles. "Good choice." She sits back down next to me. "So, tell me about what Mr. Gills had to say."

"Right, Mr. Gills..."

***

"Ah, finally. I thought you were letting me rot in here, Sergeant," Gills joked when I entered the room, followed by Davies. "Couldn't someone else have taken my statement already?"

"Probably, yes. But there are some questions I have to ask you first."

"Shoot."

"Mr. Peters accuses you of stealing the coins he was blackmailing you for from him."

"Ha – and you believe that?"

"Well, we have a theft report by Mr. Peters, stating that the coins in the folder you took along today were stolen from him. We checked, they're the exact same coins. If you didn't steal them, how did they come into your possession?"

"I... found them."

"Found them. When and where?"

Mr. Gills hesitated. "When I was repairing his loo... ten, no eleven days ago."

"You were doing repairs at Mr. Peters place eleven days ago and found the coins then? Where did you find them?"

Mr. Gills looked very uncomfortable now. "Well, they were behind the bathroom cabinet. I needed to turn off the water and the main tap was behind it. They sort of fell into my hands. And well... can you steal what isn't really there?"

"How do you mean?"

"I thought the bastard had reported the theft to you? Did you check the date? He reported them stolen a week before!"

I checked my notes, he was right. The report was dated a week before Mr. Gills claimed to have been in Mr. Peters house.

"And how did you know of that, Mr. Gills?"

"Look, we're a small village. Talk like that gets around easily. I told you, Bianca works at the grocery. She hears a lot of gossip and I hear it from her."

"So instead of informing Mr. Peters that his coins hadn't been stolen but had simply been misplaced..."

"Misplaced?! Don't you listen? Hidden! He just wanted the insurance money for them!"

"And how would you know that?"

"Oh, come on, Sergeant. Who misplaces his coin collection behind the bathroom cabinet? No, he had hidden them so no one would find them. He's a bit short on money, told me himself, said I'd probably have to wait a bit before he could pay my bill, that he was waiting on money from the insurance. He told me! And then I find his 'stolen' coins."

"And then you wanted to be his accessory to insurance fraud?"

"Accessory? Nah, I didn't want to help him."

"But you blackmailed him. You'd keep quiet about it for a share of the insurance money. And to make sure he played along, you kept the coins."

He stared to the side defiantly.

"You were meeting him this morning, Mr. Gills. You should have brought the coins and he your share of they insurance money. Only it didn't work out that way, did it? Mr. Peters tells me you didn't bring the coins so he got angry and took your camera instead, hitting you with his umbrella in the ensuing struggle."

"So what – he didn't bring the money, either! And anyway, I never would have reported it. But that bloody paper-boy had to call the police and suddenly you stick your nose into everything."

"It's my job to do that, Mr. Gills. To clear up crime. And I'm placing you under arrest for theft and blackmail."

***

"Ooph, things really tend to get complicated around here."

"Yeah."

"Insurance fraud, blackmail and counter-blackmail... why are people so greedy?! He could just have sold part of his coins if he needed money."

"He can probably tell you a hundred reasons why that was no option for him, Gail," I say before stifling another yawn.


	10. long day at work

"So you not only closed the case of the attack this morning but also the old theft. Not bad for one day." Gail smiles at me.

"Which turned out not to be a theft at all."

"No, insurance fraud. Did Mr. Peters admit to it?"

"Yes. In the end. I felt a bit like a go-between for the two. With bits and pieces surfacing by and by. One accusing the other of something, so I go and confront him with it only to hear more accusations of the first one."

"Well, at least you know why Mr. Gills absolutely couldn't remember anything about the assault in the morning. He didn't want to because he was a bad boy himself."

"Yes. In the end I'm not sure who of the two was worse. They both won't get away without sentence. Davies went over to Mr. Peters house and collected the umbrella. We found traces of blood on it and I'm sure the lab will confirm that it's Mr. Gills'. Though we have full confessions by both men, I rather have evidence to back it up."

"Right, people withdraw their confessions too often."

"Exactly. Once they've spoken to a lawyer suddenly everything they said before is no longer true. Well, I think we should be safe with this. I believe that Mr. Gills has never been around Mr. Peters' place before he was there on business. And that date is correct, confirmed by both men and it's also in Mr. Gills' calendar and on the bill. So he couldn't have stolen the coins before. And apparently no one really knew Mr. Gills was a collector until word got around about the theft. But with the insurance-claim, Mr. Gill's calendar, the coins and the umbrella I feel on the safe side for when it goes to court."

"You have all that evidence in the end? Wow, seeing as you had nothing at all in the morning."

"Yes, Davies didn't only make the additional drive for the umbrella. In fact we both went. I went through Mr. Gills' place, Davies through Mr. Peters'. I think we found everything we'll need."

"The insurance company will certainly be glad they don't have to pay out."

"Oh yes, I phoned them and they were very happy indeed."

Gail grins. "I bet."

I yawn again. "Gosh, I really should get going, Gail. It's been such a long day at work for me." I pull my mobile from my pocket.

"Oh, and now you have to get a cab. Sorry. I should have offered you non-alcoholic drinks instead of beer from the start, seeing as you're here by car."

"No problem. I could have refused." I scroll through my phone-book until I find the number for the cab company. They promise to have a cab round in 10 minutes. "I'll pick up the car tomorrow, OK?"

"Sure, it's not disturbing anyone outside on the curb."

"You know, before I go, I think I could do with a visit to your bathroom, too."

"Just down the hall on the right."

I nod and get up. When I return, Gail has cleared away the plates and glasses. "Well, thanks for dinner, Gail."

"Thanks for sticking 'round this long though you're so tired, Ben. I really enjoyed the evening."

"Yeah, me too."

A car horn honks outside. "That must be my cab." I grab my jacket and Gail walks me to the door. "I'll see you in the morning then."

"Right. Good night, Gail."

"Good night, Ben. Sleep tight."

"Shouldn't be a problem, tired as I am." I wink and her and wave as I walk to the waiting cab.

Sleeping really won't be a problem. Once home, I crawl straight into bed. It's been a very long day, but I feel good. The day was successful and on top of it I had a nice evening. Who wouldn't sleep well afterwards?


End file.
